


To the Foot of a God

by maliciousfisheeves



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 18:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7398556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maliciousfisheeves/pseuds/maliciousfisheeves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Ornstein searches for the only remaining figure he believes he can follow, but is conflicted by his own ideals and his honor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Foot of a God

**“Why do you follow me?”** asked the King.

 

 _“Because I must.”_ You say.

 

 

            You have been searching. Searching, endless hunting. You have hunted before—a long time ago, with him, with others. Many others, most long dead.

            You remember. You remember when your Lord told you to follow the others, to strike his name, your King, from history. You watched as a great flame (not that one) sunk its ravenous glowing teeth through paper, the sound of the crackling, roaring fire burned into your mind. You remember when they split his statue, when your Lord asked you to do the same.

            He was furious, and you dared not hesitate despite the feeling in your gut, for you feared that like the annals you’d be set aflame as well.

 

You were afraid.

 

The others whispered their condolences to you.

 

 ** _“It had to be done, Sir Ornstein”_** said the giant, gently easing you into a drowning madness.

 

            It had to?

 

            It had to be. It had to be that you were forced to forget, or at least pretend that you did. Humans have short memories, short lives, and so if you acted as though nothing was wrong, then as according to your Lord, they would forget him too.

            But why bother to forget? Why hide the fact? Were you to forget for the sake of your Lord’s honor, so that the humans would not question him? Or was it so that you were not tempted to do the same?

 

 ** _“He was a traitor, anyway”_** hissed the wolf (before skulking off to his own demise).

 

            What is a traitor?

 

            You had been furious as well, when your King ran off to join the dragons. What was he thinking? You lied, told yourself he was a fool. _Bastard king,_ you hissed to yourself. But the cogs of your mind turned over time, groaning from their long disuse. How long had you spent following commands? But they still turned nonetheless.

            Slowly your mind twisted to dissolution. Slowly it turned to rebellion, but only within quiet respects, lest you enrage the one above you—you still spoke however. You could trust some of those around you.

 

 ** _“Mind thy tongue, my captain, lest others less sympathetic take thy words to our Lord”_** warned the assassin.

 

            You halted any illusions of insurgence, caged them up firm as threw the key to the sea, and embedded yourself within those more compliant than you.

 

 

            One by own they disappeared with their cautious words, and slowly you were left alone. In your Lord’s cathedral, awaiting a challenger you did not know. You were stuck, drowning, watching all you knew fade into twilight. As dusk’s cold fingers began to seize into the golden lit halls, you ran.

            You ran to find the only one you knew could lead you once more, the recalcitrant beast free from its cage, for it did not need a key to escape.

 

            But you’d been ensnared for so long, you found it more difficult to continue to run. You found yourself having to explain to yourself your reasoning;

            You had been a captain, on several fronts. You led the charge, but only ever when ordered to, and for how long were you there to sit and stew on your final orders? Left to ponder how meaningless they were?

 

 ** _"Remain.”_** Said he, and you did not.

 

            You could not, how could you, after all. You are a lion amongst sheep, you were meant to find the fight, not wait for it to come to you; so you left. No one was there to tell you not to leave anyway, no one that you cared about enough anymore.

            Perhaps you were always this arrogant, but you couched your arrogance in honor, principle, and discipline—not anymore, you suppose.

 

            And now you wander, searching for your traitorous King. You haven’t hunted in so long, but the foundation still remains—but where does one begin to search for a God of War?

 

            **_That title was long ago rescinded_**. One part of you thinks, still struggling in its long standing trap. Perhaps you never really left it anyway.

****

_A god is a god even if no one believes in them_ , the other part of you says back.

 

            So you search. You comb the lands for evidence, but perhaps hunting a god of hunters was not your best choice. Perhaps you should return, beg your Lord’s last remaining heir for forgiveness—they’d have to anyway, it’s not as though there are others left they can turn to—you hiss bitterly in your mind before your quell the raging beast.

            You will not stoop so low again, and you know full well Gwyndolin would have no troubles with turning you to dust for your treachery, so you continue your tireless search.

 

 

            You do not find him for some time, but you find conjecture. You find evidence, but never an actual trail. Humans still pay respect to him, still praise him—still believe he helps them from beyond. Does he? You can’t tell, bringing out your cautiousness—you no longer have anyone to fall back on now if you’re wrong. There is no one to catch you if you fall.

            It is only the hope that he still remains somewhere just out of reach that leads you further. If you are wrong, you are lost.

 

            You wonder in your self-inflicted exile if human memory really is as short as you were lead to believe. The humans—after so long no less—still recall him despite there being nothing you or they can obtain—like the humans you still chase after him, certain he still lives. He has to live, for if he does not you are lost.

            And suddenly a dagger drives into your heart.

 

_What if he’s dead?_

            You cannot toss the thought aside, and none remain to ease your fears now. Desperate horror fills you, muddying your mind, your thoughts and your skill. You feel more lost and alone then you have ever before.

            You slow your search, regather the dust. Search the cracks for everything you’ve missed, and take the time to… not relax, but to calm your anxieties, and only stir up more.

 

            You recall how they did that—before. Long before.

 

 _“Sir Ornstein, thou shalt die from thine nerves alone if thou dost not relax.”_ The assassin chided.

 

            You miss your friends, you miss your King. Good lords, you’re such a child, aren’t you? You feel like an absolute fool. For all your preening an excellence you can do no more than writhe like the insignificant worm you are. You’re no better than the humans—you were once, but without guidance you can hardly do more than flounder about like a headless pheasant.

            Ugh. Try again. Regather yourself once more. You may as well be a child once more, but at the very least you have enough sense to not cry about it—perhaps, even if your pursuit is futile you will at least die with your sense of honor intact. For all your traitorous deeds, none can ever say you gave up.

 

 

            Your efforts were not in vain, yet when you stand at the entrance, when you can just barely see him far across from you, you can’t take a step further. The statues of dragons, grand and unwelcoming line up at your sides, and his statue. Near copies of the one you were told to destroy.

 

            You screw your courage up and take a step, approaching him for the first time since you were told to abolish the sculptures so long ago, told to abandon him.

 

You stand at the foot of a god’s domain once more.

 

You arrive, quite close to gate, and he comes to meet you. He is still a mirror of his father but so different from the Lord. You’re glad, almost proud, but deep fear climbs from below, fear you have been cultivating for countless ages, even before you finally acted on your rebellious desires.

 

Will he strike you down, or heed your pleas?

 

 **“Sir Ornstein, thou hast travelled quite far… have thou come to slay me?”** He says, tilting his head a little bit. You can feel electricity flicker in the air.

 

“No, my king.” You say. The words feel strange and foreign on your lips, and he knows, but you can feel some sort of… relief from him.

 

 **“Then why journey at all?”** he continued, steadying the swordspear. Seeing it after so long sends a chill down your spine.

 

“I wish to serve thee.” You answer. There is not even the trace of a lie upon you face.

 

            You perform the only action that will confirm this to him—you kneel, for the first time in what may as well be forever, and remove your helmet. If he chooses, he may strike you down. If he does not, then you’re not sure what will happen next.

 

            You don’t look up, you’re afraid to. Cold sweat falls down your face, whilst the rest of your body feels like you’re burning, so mortally terrified that he will choose to turn you to dust, but you don’t run. Not from him—not again.

 

            You feel the cold weight of the swordspear onto your shoulder—your right, but not your left—not yet.

 

 **“Why do you serve me?”** asked the King.

 

 _“Because I must.”_ You say.

 

 

            **“Well then, Sir Ornstein. Welcome back.”** He says, a slight hint of witticism in his tone.

 

It’s been a while, but you somehow find a way to smile a little again.

Even if this moment may be short lived.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading this-- i know secondary pov is really really weird;;; I just really felt like writing this however, but this IS based on my own ideas about what went on with ornstein and the nameless king, if you feel differently then that is a-okay!  
> I actually wouldn't mind if you felt like discussing it tbh;;;


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